


Hold My Body Down

by TonyStarkIsARobot



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dragon Hanzo Shimada, Dragons, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Violence, this was supposed to be short...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 00:55:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10060229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyStarkIsARobot/pseuds/TonyStarkIsARobot
Summary: "Hanzo himself was in pretty rough shape. A bullet wound to the shoulder, a graze to the side, and plenty of sweat, blood, and grime dripping into his eyes. They’d been out  for hours now, separated and scattered. He had no idea where Ana and Winston were, let alone Genji.His stamina was wearing out. Even his dragons were reaching their limits. He’d called on them three times now, and each time they’d ripped Talon limb from limb.Each time Hanzo grew weaker."





	

**Author's Note:**

> For full effect, you should listen to Work Song by Hozier while you read this. WORTH IT. Also, this might have a continuation. I have ideas. But please let me know what you think - this is my first work for the fandom so~!

The mission was supposed to be a swift one.

 

It was supposed to be simple.

 

They were supposed to do some easy recon and then escort supplies down the road to the rendezvous point. From there, Lena was supposed to swoop in, pick up the team and their supplies, and they were all supposed to be on their merry way.

 

They were  _ supposed  _ to be back at the Watchpoint by nightfall.

 

Somehow, pinned behind a barricade with sniper shots and shotgun blasts barreling closer, Hanzo didn’t think that was going to happen. Not for one second.

 

Underneath his hand, Hana whimpered as he applied as much pressure as he dared to her wounds. Beside him, McCree was slumped over, blood trickling down the side of his face from just above his right ear. Both of them were out for the count.

 

Hanzo himself was in pretty rough shape. A bullet wound to the shoulder, a graze to the side, and plenty of sweat, blood, and grime dripping into his eyes. They’d been out  for hours now, separated and scattered. He had no idea where Ana and Winston were, let alone Genji.

 

His stamina was wearing out. Even his dragons were reaching their limits. He’d called on them three times now, and each time they’d ripped Talon limb from limb. 

 

Each time Hanzo grew weaker.

 

\---

 

The first time he summoned them was when Hana’s mech exploded. She’d tumbled out of it just a few seconds before, barely managing to get out of the way of the blast. As she made a valiant attempt to retreat, firing her light gun at any grunt who got too close, a rifle round found its way to her hip. Hanzo watched in slow motion as the 19 year old pilot hit the pavement face first. He guessed she fell unconscious almost instantly by how still and silent she remained.

 

Talon soldiers began to swarm, charging over their fallen brethren to get to her. Hanzo could see the bloodlust in their eyes. They wanted a confirmed kill and if he did nothing, they would have one.

 

With as much speed as he could manage, Hanzo hopped from rooftop to rooftop to make his way over to her, bowstring drawn taut. He fired one arrow after the other, picking off the ones that looked truly hungry. Allowing his leg armor to absorb the impact, he jumped down from the roof of a shopping complex to land squarely in front of the young woman. 

 

He whipped Storm Bow left and right, firing scatter arrow after scatter arrow into them. When it became clear that there were just too many, he planted his feet, drew his bow, and closed his eyes.

 

Hanzo could feel the dragons writhing beneath his skin, drawing goosebumps to the surface every time a phantom scale got too close to breaking free. Every time he drew his bow, he could feel their jaws snapping, eager to be released - to kill. He could hear them, whispering in their guttural language, goading him, reminding him that he was here both as a killer and a protector.

 

With a deep breath in, his tattoos began to glow. One dragon a bright, vibrant blue and the other a deep, bloody red. The air began to charge itself around him. 

 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. 

 

This was nothing new to him. This was familiar - comfortable even. 

 

His ears popped. 

 

The pressure began to build.

 

His eyes snapped open, teeth clenched and lips pulled back.

 

“Ryū ga waga teki wo kurau!”

 

His arrow flies.

 

The dragons crawl out from his skin, down his arm, through his hand, and leap off of his bow. They trail the arrow, ripping and tearing every living being before them limb from limb. 

 

Hanzo didn’t watch - he’d seen the destruction many times before. He’d smelled the blood, seen the horror, and lived with the knowledge that part of him was possessed by beings not of their world. He lived with the knowledge that he and he alone could cause so much destruction.

 

While the screams continued as his dragons floated through the walls before him - even after his arrow struck true - Hanzo knelt down and carefully swept Hana up into his arms. She was breathing, but unconscious. 

 

Once the pair made it back to Hanzo’s position (hidden, tucked away, perfect for sniping), he tucked her into the little alcove he’d been sniping from and stood. The dragons slammed back into his chest and he stumbled back. It always left him winded when the spirits returned, winding around his arm. They were content, but still hungry. 

 

“ _ Hey! ‘S this damn thing workin’?!” _

_ “ _ McCree?  I can hear you loud and clear. Where are the others?” Hanzo had never before been so grateful to hear another voice.

 

Deep down, Hanzo  _ hated  _ going on missions with McCree. An excellent shot, decently skilled with hand-to-hand combat, but he was  _ Hanzo’s _ . Hanzo, who couldn’t stick by him for the entirety of a mission to make sure he came home in one piece. If McCree died on a mission they shared, it would be because Hanzo couldn’t protect him.

 

_ “Hanzo? Oh man ‘m I glad t’ hear yer voice. ‘M not a-hundred-percent on everyone else… got separated a little while back. ‘M assumin’ Ana ‘nd Winston are still back to back. Last I saw they were double-teamin’ a pretty big group.”  _

 

Hanzo tried to ignore the squeezing feeling in his chest when Genji was not listed among those McCree had recently been in contact with. “ _ How ‘bout you? You run into anyone?” _

 

“I have found D. Va,” he explained, using her call-sign in case their channel was a completely open one. He hoped the others could hear them, but somehow he doubted it. Which meant Lena likely couldn’t hear them either in the event that they required an extraction. “She is injured. Her mecha is gone.”

 

Hanzo heard McCree swear through his earpiece. At first he assumed it was due to the news that one of their own was out of commission. 

 

Then he heard the gunshots.   
  
_ “Aww sheeit. I’m pinned, sweetcheeks. Any chance y’could use those ninja skills a yours ‘nd give a cowboy a hand?”  _

 

Fear and alarm trickled down his spine. If McCree was admitting to being pinned it meant there were far more enemies than he was able to handle, even with his expert marksman abilities. McCree was in real trouble.

 

Suddenly, Hanzo regretted keeping their relationship a secret from the others. He had insisted on professionalism at the time, but now all he could think of was parading through the base with McCree handcuffed to him. If they survived this, he wanted everyone to know what would happen if they touched something that belonged to Hanzo.

 

Hanzo spared Hana a brief glance. She was slowly inching back towards full consciousness and her hand was firmly pressed against the hole in her side. Her light gun wobbled in her opposite hand, but she still had it. She still had a way to defend herself. He could leave her if he had to.

 

The older man crouched in front of her and placed a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder. “Hana, I must go help our teammates. You must defend yourself until I return.”

 

Hana flashed him a weak but present grin. “I’m going to… own all these noobs.”

 

“Good. I will return shortly.” Hanzo gave her a gentle pat and stood, brushing off his knees.

 

“McCree, what is your position? I am headed to you now.”

 

Hanzo flitted across rooftops and gutters towards the description McCree gave him in between his gunshots and grunts. There were so many enemies all over… It had clearly been a trap. From the looks of it, Hanzo would have guessed that Talon wanted to use this opportunity to wipe out Overwatch completely. Where had they even come upon so many recruits?

 

There were no signs of Genji or Ana anywhere, but he was almost certain he heard Winston’s roar a time or two in the few seconds it took him to reach McCree.

 

Unfortunately he reached him just a moment too late.

 

McCree had thrown a flashbang into the crowd in an attempt to buy himself some more time. He figured if he could scatter them - kill a few in the best case scenario - it would take them a minute to regroup. He could get to higher ground or Hanzo would get there, whichever came first. 

 

Someone in the sea of black recognized what was happening and threw the grenade back at him. Already backed against the wall, the concussive force of the grenade knocked him backwards. With his ears ringing and head pounding, he had no way to ground himself - to avoid the impact. McCree was thrown backwards, twisting as he hit the side of the building head on. 

 

He crumpled.

 

Hanzo had looked away once he realized what was about to happen. He’d avoided the light, but the sound was especially difficult to compensate for and he found his sense of hearing dulled. Unable to hear anything above his own breathing and the loud ringing that came from the grenade, he jumped off the ledge to land in front of McCree.

 

Once again they swarmed.

 

His dragons grew restless. They had spent some of their energy but not enough to be unavailable to him again.

 

They could taste the blood in the air already.

 

Hanzo drew Storm Bow.

 

This time his ears couldn’t sense the pressure change, but his lungs could.

 

The dragons flew free.

 

He picked up McCree, taking special care to remember his hat. (McCree would never forgive him if he woke up without his hat). Using the distraction his dragons provided, Hanzo scaled the wall with McCree slung over his shoulder. They made quick time back to Hana, as he had promised. 

 

Hanzo gently lowered McCree into the space next to Hana. 

 

He felt sick. This was exactly what he feared might happen. McCree was unconscious with an injury of unknown severity and Hanzo was powerless to stop it. He was powerless to heal him, powerless to wake him… All he could do was watch, wait, and hope that one of their teammates found them with time enough to spare.

 

Osore and Bōkyo found their way back to him once more, this time taking his breath away as he reabsorbed their forms. 

 

Hanzo had just barely managed to position the two both comfortably and safely when a loud  _ crack  _ echoed through the narrow alleyway. His heart stopped.

 

A bullet ripped through his shoulder before embedding itself in the wall a few inches from his body.

 

Someone found them. A sniper. A  _ good  _ sniper. Hanzo knew the angles well enough - they wouldn’t be able to reach McCree and Hana. But as long as he stood tall, he was the target. 

 

Bōkyo’s teeth snapped, vibrating dangerously deep within the assassin’s chest. He didn’t take too kindly to being outdone.  

 

He turned, a growl low in his throat and one brown eye radiating a deep red light. Another reverberating  _ crack _ and fire lit up his side. The bullet grazed him. It was deep enough to hurt - to bleed - but not deep enough to cause serious damage for the most part. 

 

Not entirely in control of himself, the mercenary grabbed an arrow from his quiver, nocked it, and drew his bow. Rage filled him at the idea of being bested. Fear gripped him at the thought of his teammates falling prey to this sharpshooter. 

 

Bōkyo propelled the arrow forward with the sheer force of his will. Osore followed because he must, not because he wanted to. The moment the sniper was defeated, the dragons snapped back to him as though they were on the end of a tether stretched too far. 

 

Falling to his knees, every part of Hanzo felt frayed. Nerve endings sizzled and screamed with every breath. He felt open and raw and above all,  _ tired.  _

 

“Hanzo?  _ Hanzo _ !”

 

It was a testament to the state he was in that Hanzo didn’t even notice that Hana was still awake when they returned.

 

“I… Will be… Fine.” The words came in pants through teeth pressed too tightly together.

 

“Hanzo, we need to get out of here. Did you see Winston or Genji?” To her credit, Hana didn’t sound scared in the least. If anything, she sounded authoritative. Hanzo was impressed. He didn’t think the girl had it in her. 

 

“No.”

 

“All three of us are injured now. We have to find them or get Tracer to pick us up.” Hana tried to hoist herself up against the wall. The moment her eyes grew wide, Hanzo knew she would faint. Wanting to spare the girl further injury, he reached out to catch her on her descent, gently easing her to the floor. 

 

He was beginning to lose feeling in his arm and with a sick fascination noticed the the splotches of blood from his wounds were beginning to meet in the middle. Hanzo knew he should be concerned that he had perhaps nicked something vital, but he couldn’t worry about that until his friends were safe. Known for his stamina in battle, Hanzo was flagging. It had been hours, he’d summoned his spirits three times, and now he had two actively bleeding wounds. 

 

The booming roar he’d heard earlier sounded again, this time closer.

 

That meant at least Winston was still alive. There was hope.

 

Over the din below, Hanzo heard the sniper’s rifle again. 

 

The dragons had not been able to find their quarry. 

 

Hanzo ducked, bracing his back against the barrier, keeping his head down. He would have to wait for a break in the sniper’s shots to stand, to fire back.

 

A new sound joined the noises surrounding them. This one was louder, larger… It sounded like a shotgun.

 

Brain working overtime, the archer began to strategize. There had to be a way to take out at least one threat. Just one. That’s all he had to do. If he could distract the sniper - take them out, even - he could use the opportunity to pick up his friends and escape. Assuming, of course, this new gunman didn’t see them.

 

If he focused on the shotguns, he could be very easily hit by the sniper. Then his friends would have no chance of survival.  _ McCree _ would have no chance of survival. 

 

The shotgun blasts were growing closer. 

 

Hanzo crawled over to Hana and McCree, keeping his head down and out of the way. He pressed a hand against Hana’s side. She whimpered.

 

He wouldn’t be able to rouse them - they were both far too injured. It was either he got them out, or they all died together. He was fine with sacrificing himself for the sake of Hana and McCree, but while he still drew breath he wouldn’t let them fall in battle.

 

\---

 

Hanzo bowed his head. 

 

_ “I need your help. Please.” _

 

A voice burned in his mind, boiling and hot, tinged with the red and black of charred skin. 

 

“ _ Shimada Hanzo, you have called us now three times.”  _ Rage poured off the voice in waves, assaulting his senses. He winced.

 

_ “I know, I have called on you a great many times and you have always answered. Without your help, I will die here. I am unable to protect my friends. I will die without honor and as my guardian spirits, you too will be disgraced.” _

 

_ “You dare insult us, Shimada Hanzo?! We are Osore and Bōkyo, the spirits of violence and fear! We chose you for your sense of duty, your thirst for blood, and your desire to live!”  _ The voice grew louder and Hanzo resisted the urge to cover his ears. He knew the pain, while real, was internal.

 

_ “Shimada Hanzo, I will help you.”  _ This voice was softer but sharper, tainted by screams and painted with the cold blue feeling of death. His skin broke out in goosebumps and he shivered against the cold sweat that began to run down the back of his neck.  _ “I can taste your fear. It is sweet and salty, but powerful. You wish to live. You wish to save your cowboy. If I am to help you, you must give in to me.” _

 

_ “Osore, you can’t be serious! He has used us! Why should we help him?” _

 

_ “Can’t you feel it? He is weak… He is tired… He is dying. What happens to us if we allow this fate so soon? He is scared and angry… We can use this…” _

 

Another shotgun blast, this time within a few hundred feet. They would be within range soon.

_ “... fine. Shimada Hanzo, we will help you. But you must give yourself over to us. We will use your body and when we are done, when we’ve had our fill, we will return it to you.” _ __  
__  
_ “All that I ask is that you spare those who fight beside me. They are honorable people. They do not deserve what you seek to unleash.” _ __  
__  
_ “You would DARE place restrictions on us?!”  _ The smell of burnt flesh tickled his nostrils and he tried not to gag.  _ “That we would even offer to - “ _ __  
_  
_ _ “We accept.”  _ Fear slithered down his spine with approval.  __ “Now release yourself. Give yourself to fear and violence. Unleash us….” The command was like a whisper, tantalizing and slow.

 

Hanzo’s head fell to his chest. He breathed in, steady and slow, and out in a rush. He could feel his consciousness waving, whether from blood loss or spiritual intervention he wasn’t sure.

 

In one breath, everything shifted.

 

Where the archer once stood now roared a great dragon. Its scales shone deep, dark blue - like the unseen bottom of the ocean - in the shadow. In the light, they were so red they seemed to drip with blood. Their iridescence was all at once horrifyingly beautiful.

 

The shotguns were now visible, attached to a man who bore a stark white mask but was clad entirely in black. He seemed to float, gliding through peons like Death incarnate. 

 

The sniper drew herself up, skin periwinkle and hair ink black.

 

The dragon gnashed his teeth and flicked his tail. This would be  _ fun _ . 

 

Bullets pinged off the scales that were simultaneously radiant and dull. A maw full of razor sharp teeth opened as the dragon raised itself onto its rear legs. The roar it let loose shook the building beneath its feet and the dragon’s eyes caught people below scrambling to cover their ears. Screams rose from below and the dragon secretly preened.

 

With a great leap, the beast slithered out into the air, undulating above the crowd as it began to swipe with pointed talons. 

 

Talon fell in droves.

 

The masked berzerker caught sight of the carnage and seemed to vanish, becoming a noncorporeal mist. The dragon was unconcerned. That was one fewer threat it needed to eliminate. 

 

White flashed and out of the corner of his eye, he could see the mask reappear, grab the sniper by the shoulder, and disappear again.

 

They were  _ scared _ . 

 

_ “They have gone… My friends are safe. Please return me to them so that I may see to their wounds.” _ __  
_  
_ __ “We have not yet had our fill, Shimada Hanzo. ”

 

\---

 

Jesse groaned as he tried to peel his eyelids apart. Dust and sweat had combined to create an unpleasant, crusty glue. The gunslinger’s head swam as he tried to orient himself. He was in Numbani with his team. They were separated. He was fighting alone… Then Hanzo was there… He’d called Hanzo for help… Then the world went black.

 

He pushed himself up onto his forearms, squinting so he could look around. The first thing he became aware of was the incredible headache he had. Someone must have let the whole damn derby loose in his head. 

 

The second thing was Hana laying next to him, pale as a ghost with blood coating the side of her jumpsuit. With a hiss he slowly lifted his serape up, over his head, and folded it into fourths. As gently as he could manage, Jesse lifted her hand up off the wound, placed the serape against it, and then placed her hand back over it to hold his serape in place. At the very least it would help slow any bleeding that was still happening. (He couldn’t really tell given the double vision he was dealing with). 

 

_ “ --the Hell am I supposed to know?! Do I look like an expert on dragons?!” _

 

_ “No, you do not, but you ARE the scientist!” _

 

_ “Look, whatever this is isn’t science! IT’S A TWENTY FOOT DRAGON!” _

 

“Uh, what th’ Hell’re y’all talkin’ about?” McCree pressed the heel of his hand into his eye in the hopes that that would help the pounding in his head.

 

_ “McCree! Where the Hell have you been?”  _ Jesse didn’t think Winston was the growling type… he was wrong.

 

“Tryin’a keep my head on m’ shoulders! Where th’ Hell’ve  _ you  _ been?! Could’a used yer help!”

 

_ “We were ambushed. Our communication got cut off. Are you with anyone?”  _ Thank Christ for Ana because McCree was two seconds away from punching the big stupid moon ape.

 

“‘M with Hana right now… Was with Hanzo but I got no idea where he got off to.” Even in his disoriented state the thought concerned him. Hanzo could be dead. He could be unconscious. If the blood spatter was anything to go on, he was at the very least wounded. “Wherever he is, he ain’t with his bow,” he added, catching a glimpse of the forgotten weapon when he looked up.

 

_ “My brother is currently occupied.” _ Genji sounded as tense as McCree had ever heard him. If he knew Genji as well as he thought he did, McCree would wager to say he was scared.

 

“Th’ Hell d’you mean  _ occupied _ ?! Listen here ya half-robotic gremlin-”

 

_ “Jesse, where are you?”  _ Genji asked, cutting him off. 

 

“I jus’ woke up feelin’ like someone shoved a damn grenade in between m’ ears, I ain’t got a damn clue!” Worry over Hanzo was quickly building and Jesse fought the itch to get up and look for him. Hanzo was more than capable of handling himself, but whatever situation he was in scared  _ Genji _ . If this ended up being Jesse’s fault - if Hanzo ended up  _ dead  _ because Jesse was too much of a damn fool to look after himself, he’d never let himself live it down. 

 

_ “Wherever you are, stay there. I will be there shortly.” _

 

McCree didn’t reply to Genji, but did grumble to himself about ninjas and head injuries. It made him feel a little better. Taking stock of himself, he was relieved to find that the only injury he seemed to have sustained was a knock on the head. Granted, it was a pretty nasty knock, but it was nothing that would keep him from walking out of the fight alive.

 

Speaking of fighting, what was that sound? It sounded like… metal scraping against metal and people screaming. It sounded like Satan himself saw fit to visit the big blue marble and just started dishing out punishments then and there…

 

In the few minutes it took Jesse to get himself on better footing, Genji found him. 

 

“McCree, you look like shit.”   
  
“Aww, thanks, partner. Don’tchu just look like a great big ol’ ball a sunshine yourself,” he replied. “Mind tellin’ me what in th’ Hell’s goin’ on down there?” Jesse jerked his thumb to the side, forearms resting against the knees he’d pulled up to his chest. 

 

Genji seemed to hesitate. That’s how McCree knew it had something to do with Hanzo. Genji was his best friend - had been since he joined Overwatch. Even though Hanzo asked McCree to keep their whole thing hush-hush, McCree couldn’t leave Genji out of the loop. Especially when he was still so worried about his older brother. Besides, Jesse was pretty sure Hanzo told him himself anyway. 

 

“Genji. Where’s Hanzo?”

 

“My brother… he has saved all of our lives.”

 

Dread settled in the pit of Jesse’s stomach. “Genji, I swear t’ whatever god you like th’ most that if you don’t tell me where my man is  _ right now _ , I’m gonna make sure yer all cyborg by th’ end’a th’ day, y’ hear me?”

 

In a gesture that was more characteristic of Genji  _ before  _ his cybernetic enhancements, the green-haired Shimada rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

 

“You are aware that my brother and I are guarded by the spirits of ancient dragons, yes?”

 

“‘Been fightin’ beside y’ long enough t’ know that much.” McCree was becoming impatient. “Get t’ th’ goddamn point!”

 

With a frustrated growl, Genji darted forward and lifted McCree up onto his feet with his hands in McCree’s armpits. Jesse swayed on his feet as the world turned underneath him. Angela was going to kill him for getting another concussion…

 

Genji slid under McCree’s flesh arm, shoulder pressed into his armpit, holding Jesse up with an arm across his shoulders. 

 

“Dammit, you Shimada’s really gotta learn how ta use yer goddamn words!” Jesse growled as he hobbled forward with Genji’s support. They reached the ledge and Jesse gasped.

 

Bodies littered the ground, awash in a sea of what could only be blood to Jesse’s eye. The ground was  _ soaked  _ in it. Off in the distance, smack dab in the middle of the trail of carnage, was a giant, rampaging dragon.

 

“That… is a goddamn dragon… Genji, why is Hanzo a goddamn dragon?” Jesse knew his voice was soon going to reach the pitch of ‘hysterical’. 

 

“My brother asked his guardian spirits to aid him. This is what he is  _ occupied  _ with.”

 

“HE’S A DRAGON, GENJI! LAST I CHECKED, THOSE SPIRITS’A’YOURS DON’T TURN Y’ALL INTO MYTHICAL CREATURES!”

 

_ “McCree’s right, Genji. How did this happen?”  _ Well… Shit, his comm was on the whole time? How much of that did they hear? The laugh that burst from McCree’s mouth was filled with hysteria, exhaustion, and disbelief. How the Hell was  _ this  _ his life?

 

“Our dragons are not just guardians… Their spirits are bound to us. In a sense, they are trapped. They promise to protect and aid us and in return we swear to bring them honor for the afterlife. Before Hanzo, none thought it possible to have more than one spirit bound to a person.” It was evident Genji was frowning as he spoke, despite the mechanical nature of his voice. 

 

“If my spirit is to be believed, they have transformed his body as payment for their assistance. It is a feat not attempted in two-thousand years. Not even Heiwa and I have tried such a thing, even when I was near death.”

 

McCree was  _ so  _ out of his depth with this one. He let out a groan and ran a hand down his face.

 

“Okay, so what happened th’ last time some damn fool pulled this? Or do I even wanna know?” 

 

Genji took a deep breath, apparently steeling himself for what he needed to say, when Winston interrupted. Thank God for the big space gorilla.

 

_ “Genji, I’m calling Lena for an evac. You should start trailing him, make sure he doesn’t go after any civilians in the area. I’ll get Ana over to D. Va and McCree, get them treated and out of the line of fire.” _ __  
__  
“Understood, I will begin -”

 

“No, absolutely not. Y’all come down f’r Hana ‘cause she’s in a bad way, but I ain’t goin’ anywhere without him.”   
  
“Jesse, you are injured, you cannot - “   
  
“I got a bump ‘n th’ noggin! And if I can’t walk, yer just gon’ have t’ carry me! I ain’t leavin’ ‘im.”

 

_ “... Genji, take him with you. I will come for Hana and we’ll meet at the extraction point when Lena arrives.”  _ Ana was the last person McCree expected encouragement from, especially when it came to stupid stunts like this. The woman was practically his mother. 

 

Ana was smart enough to know when a fight couldn’t be won.

 

“Damn right!”

 

Torn between being hopelessly frustrated and utterly proud of the loyalty his brother inspired, Genji sighed. This American was reckless, suicidal, dangerous, and just plain old-fashioned stupid. But he had an incredible heart and a stubborn streak a mile wide.

 

“Hold on, Cowboy.” 

 

That was all the warning McCree got before he found himself being swept up and carried off the ledge like Princess Peach at the final castle. Damn humiliating.

 

“Okay, first off, don’t ya ever do that t’ me again. Second, wouldja please put me th’ Hell down? ‘M perfectly capable ‘a walkin’!”

 

If this were any other day, Genji would have dropped him on his ass. 

 

As it was, he carefully deposited Jesse on his own two feet and began picking his way through the bodies.

 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice ya not givin’ me an answer earlier. What happened th’ last time?”

 

Keeping his eyes forward, focused on the swirling, writhing thing his brother had become, Genji answered him.

 

“He could not come back. The spirit consumed him. He was unable to remember his humanity and was ultimately slaughtered.”

 

McCree was going to have  _ words  _ with the guys who wrote all those Japanese legends. Because in McCree’s eyes, those guys were assholes.

 

\---

  
  


Hanzo could see what was happening outside of himself. He could smell the blood, fear, and death he caused. Talon fell before him in droves, silent screams permanently stuck on the faces of the men and women who stood in his way ( _ their  _ way).

 

Hanzo could feel himself growing weak. His spirit was dimming. He was tired, still losing blood - though he wasn’t entirely sure how - and being drained of most of his energy. His thoughts floated to Jesse. 

 

_ “Shimada Hanzo, your friends yet draw breath. Perhaps we should pay our respects?”  _ The red voice was vicious and Hanzo keened in pain. His very being felt raw and open.

 

“You swore to me you would not harm them,” he panted.

_ “I swore no such thing.”  _ Hot, rancid breath blew across his senses.

 

The dragon turned, black eyes narrowed as it barreled towards the two people Hanzo cared most about. 

 

\--

 

“Uh… Genji… I don’t mean t’ be an alarmist… But ‘m pretty sure he ain’t too happy to see us,” Jesse said, pointing towards the ever-growing embodiment of death and destruction headed their way. 

 

\---

 

_ “OSORE! YOU SWORE TO ME THEY WOULD NOT BE HARMED!”  _ Hanzo could feel himself gathering every drop of energy left within him. He would  _ not  _ let this happen. He would not be the cause of Genji’s destruction yet again. 

 

He would not harm McCree.

 

_ “I did. I have had my fill. I will do no more harm. Bōkyo, release him.”  _ While Bōkyo’s voice was pure heat and agony, Osore’s was the ice cold revulsion of nails on a chalkboard. The voices of spirits were pain to the ears of men.

 

_ “I am not finished! We did not finish with Heiwa the last time! I will have my vengeance - I will fulfill the duty he was too cowardly to fulfill before!” _

 

Hanzo could feel the moment Bōkyo took complete control. Their scales locked into place, stopping on the deep blackish red of Bōkyo’s nature. Gone was the blueish black shadow of fear to keep the violence in check. 

 

The archer’s soul shook with rage, fear alongside him.

 

_ “Osore, we cannot let this happen. We must stop him!” _

 

_ “Patience, little dragon. Even Bōkyo is afraid of something.” _

 

\--

 

Genji sucked in a breath and held it. The scales no longer fluctuated.

 

One spirit had taken hold.

 

There were few other scenarios worse than this one.

“Jesse, draw Peacekeeper.”

 

“Wh - no! Ya gotta be outta yer damn mind! I ain’t gonna shoot ‘im!”

 

“ _ Jesse _ !”   
  
“No, don’t you ‘Jesse’ me!”

 

Hanzo was nearly upon them now, the color of his scales matching the slick gore beneath his claws. The gore  _ he  _ caused. The thought made Jesse’s stomach roil.

 

This mission was becoming so much bigger than any of them could ever have imagined.

 

Genji reached for the hilt of his katana and closed his eyes.

 

“ _ Heiwa, I ask for your assistance. Please distract your brothers. I humbly request this as a Shimada heir and Shambali disciple.” _

 

Genji’s eyes snapped open, the green lights that denoted their placement on his mask flickering briefly.

 

“Yoshi!  Ryūjin no ken wo kurae!” With a flick of his wrist, Genji’s katana cut through the air, unleashing a noncorporeal dragon of his own that sped towards Hanzo and collided with his great chest head on.

 

“‘M gettin’ too damn old fer this!”

 

“McCree, you must listen to me. Heiwa will do all she can to aid Hanzo in regaining himself. We must get closer to him.”

 

“Buddy, I’ll climb on his damn back ‘f ‘t means I get’im back,” McCree said, spreading his arms out wide in front of them. “Ya tell me what t’ do ‘nd it’ll get done.”

 

“Bōkyo has laid claim to my brother’s form. You must encourage him to fight back. Bōkyo is too powerful for him to control alone.”

 

\--

 

_ “Hanzo… Shimada Hanzo…”  _ Hanzo’s head snapped up, sunken eyes wet with the unshed tears of mental agony. The soft green whisper felt like sweet release come to him at last. 

 

“Are you death?”

 

The answering chuckle was deep and melodious, filled with bells and sweet silence.

 

_ “No… I am Heiwa. Genji has asked me to assist you… To free you…” _

 

Hanzo sagged against his bonds. His brother was safe. He had succeeded. Genji would live. The relief he felt was like a flood of water in the middle of a thousand year drought.

 

“I cannot fight him… Osore and I have tried. He is just too powerful.”

 

_ “Hanzo, your gaijin waits for you. You must fight him… I will protect you from all that I can, but you must fight… Your brother, your gaijin, your friends, they all wait for you…” _

 

“I… I fear I am not strong enough. I fear this is what I deserve, for all the wrongs I have done in this world and the next.”

 

_ “That is not for you to decide. Peace, Hanzo. Be at peace and fight your demons.” _

 

Warm green light surrounded him in a gentle cocoon. It soothed the flames started by violence and stoked the coals of life nearly extinguished in his soul. It cradled him gently, balancing him, reorienting him.

 

Hanzo would fight.

 

\---

 

“Hanzo - hey, Hanzo!” Jesse yelled, hands cupped around his mouth to amplify his voice. “Darlin’, ya gotta get rid ‘f ‘im! We’re all fine down here! Winston ‘n Ana got Hana outta here. Gotta little bump t’ look after, but I’m alive! Genji ain’t got a scratch on ‘im the bastard!

 

All because’a you! We’re all okay cause’a you, Han! Ya gotta fight ‘im. Ya gotta come back ta us!”

 

Genji kneeled amongst the bodies, knee deep in blood and dirt and all manner of unpleasantness. His mask was removed, placed carefully beside him as his scarred face raised itself towards the sun. Even surrounded by death, Genji was at peace. Falling into a light meditation, he waited.

 

\---

 

“...Jesse?” 

 

It felt like an eternity passed since Heiwa embraced him. He felt so… even. At peace. Unfettered. His peace was shattered when he heard the voice of his cowboy. That’s right… He needed to fight. He needed to get back there, to Jesse. To Genji. To Ana and Winston and Hana. Back to Lena and Fawkes and Angela. Back to Morrison and Mei and Zarya.

He had to  _ fight _ .

 

The dragon’s head reared and shook. 

 

A mighty roar broke loose. 

 

Bōkyo tossed his head from side to side, clawing at the dead scattered before him and the buildings surrounding him.

 

“Osore,  _ help  _ me!”   
  
_ “I am doing all I can… There is no honor in fear.” _

 

“There is power in fear! Embrace me. Surround me as Heiwa did and lend me your strength.”

 

_ “... Very well, Shimada Hanzo.” _

 

Cold, icy fear gripped him tight and threatened to freeze him for all eternity. Peace. He needed to remember to be at peace. Fear was natural. Fear was normal. Fear was  _ powerful _ .

 

\---

 

Jesse took a step back when the great beast began to thrash. The last thing he needed was to be caught on the business end of one of those claws. 

 

It almost looked like the dragon was beating itself up… Like it couldn’t quite control itself…

 

“That’s right, Han! Ya better be fightin’ th’ bastard! Remind’m who’s boss!”

 

The gunslinger let out a ‘whoop’ and gave a little hop. 

 

\---

 

_ “You really think you are strong enough to stop me?! To stop my rage?!” _

 

“I believe I am strong enough to tame you as my ancestors were before me. It has been two thousand years since you were released. You were but a single spirit bound to a foolish man.”

 

_ “And now I am an older, wiser, more powerful spirit bound to a dishonorable welp.” _ __  
__  
“Now you are one of many spirits.”

 

\---

 

“Hanzo! I know yer in there! ‘F ya can hear me…. Look, if ya can hear me, I love ya. Ya already know that, but everyone else don’t. Well, sorry sweetcheeks but th’ cat’s outta th’ bag! I can’t do this withoutcha, Hanzo. 

 

Can’t imagine wakin’ up withoutcha pressin’ yer cold feet all over me. Can’t imagine goin’ through a thunderstorm withoutcha there ta massage th’ stump for me…

 

Can’t imagine not kissin’ ya every day, holdin’ ya when one ‘f us gets back from a mission…

 

Can’t imagine goin’ ta bed alone...”

 

Jesse’s face was bright red. He hadn’t planned on any of this happening. He hadn’t planned on outing them like this, over an open channel with God only knows who listening in.

 

He didn’t care. The thought of losing Hanzo for good was just too much. He  _ needed _ Hanzo, dammit!

 

He heard Hana squeal. 

 

_ “My fans will love this! Ohmygod McCree! This is straight out of a manga I read!” _

 

He’s too damn old for this.

 

\---

 

Hanzo centered himself against Jesse’s words. He drew a deep breath in and slowly released it. Once. Twice. Three times.

 

“I release you spirit, from your mortal bonds. I reclaim my body and bind your soul.”

 

_ “You are not powerful enough to command such a thing, Shimada Hanzo! You are alone here!” _

 

The dragon’s legs began to shake as it thrashed, crashing sideways into a building before righting itself.

 

_ “What are you doing?! You cannot take this from me!” _

 

“I grant you peace, spirit. I reclaim my body and bind your soul.”

 

The bells chimed again and a new wave of surety crested over Hanzo’s soul, coupled by a healthy measure of fear. Fear for himself, for Genji, for McCree. For everyone he’d ever loved and everyone he ever would. Fear for Osore and Heiwa, for Numbani.

“I reclaim my body and bind your soul. Release my form. Be at peace.”

 

\---

 

Everything happened in slow motion, all at once.

 

The sound of metal scraping against metal bore through Jesse and Genji’s skulls and they covered their ears.

 

A flash of blinding light was followed by the crack of harsh thunder filled the air with the scent of ozone and rain.

 

Genji’s bright green dragon spirit shot out from the bright light, smacking him right in the chest. He let out a contented sigh.

 

Hanzo appeared where the dragon once stood, pale, wounded, and unconscious.

 

\---

 

“Hanzo! Aw Jesus, darlin’...” McCree cried as he raced forward to catch his archer. He was still dizzy and unsteady from his collision with the side of a building earlier, but he was determined to make sure Hanzo didn’t hit the ground.

 

With Genji there to support him, he lowered himself to sit on the ground with Hanzo cradled in his lap.

 

“Genji, get th’ others over here… We gotta get’im home…”

 

His wounds were still bleeding sluggishly, adding to the tacky claminess of his already deathly cool skin. McCree could hear his breath rattling around - an almost sure sign of something broken in his chest - and tried to keep himself from panicking as he brushed inky black hair from Hanzo’s forehead. His ribbon had come undone somewhere during the day, leaving his hair to pool around his head like a black halo accented by the peppery patches at his temples.

 

“Aw sweetcheeks… ‘s alright… I gotcha… Ya just stay with me, y’hear me? Ya gotta stay…”

 

McCree distantly registered Genji calling for the evac to come to them. His concentration was focused solely on the man in his lap. With each rise and fall of his chest, McCree drew a breath of his own.

 

“That’s right, darlin’. One after th’ other.”

 

He placed a kiss to Hanzo’s temple.

  
  



End file.
